Jessy Razafimandimby offers neither answers nor solutions.
He is here. He is truly here. 
He runs the marathon of art like an athlete of certainty _…
the form will exist when he wishes, to affirm the strength of existence.

When Jessy Razafimandimby steps on the territory, water transforms into gouache, the scarf relentlessly attacks the window of the world, the film plays in reverse, matches multiply to create a giant mikado, polished floorboards soar towards paradise destinies, nostalgia is consumed in a cocktail of silver water,
dessert is savored at dawn in the early hours of innocence, and the decor trembles in the theatricality of a young world yearning for clarity.

In the playground of our time, Jessy Razafimandimby gathers geographies from Geneva to Marseille to Manakambahiny, atmospheres, times, gazes, friends, materials, flavors, moments, promises, ornaments, courtesies …
but above all, impertinences …
to create for us his family portrait …
the portrait of his imagined family … his six-storey flying body … a miracle.

In his first monograph exhibition in Madagascar, the artist does not announce an end, but rather affirms a gesture. 
This decision is undoubtedly the most fitting as he returns to his homeland, for this return is merely the beginning of a long story to come.

The gesture of his painter’s hand marries with all the materials found during his city strolls and the randomness of urban life.

In the hollow of his young hand that calls for friendship, he carries with him comrades in the struggle so that sleepless nights may vanish into infinity.

In the tenderness of his hand’s caress,
sculpture emerges, fabrics dazzle the eye, painting transcends the seasons, and we, the visitors, become actors in his spectacle of flying shadows.